May the Hist Guide Us
by Neku.GrandChase
Summary: He was an Argonian fending for himself in the lands of Skyrim. Involved in the capture of Ulfric Stormcloak, issues of Dragonborns, werewolves, and marriage were the last things he would have ever thought about.    Will involve M/M and M/F content.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm trying to write while playing a new game using an Argonian. So...please be nice to me. _

Disclaimer: I don't own Skyrim. Also I admit it's the only TES game I've ever played. If something is wrong with the lore, please do send a review. 

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><p>Kindle-Starter was not a very happy man-reptile right now.<p>

He was a poor Argonian, with no lineage to speak of for he cannot remember the details of his life when he was a young reptile in the Black Marsh. As if Hist was not satisfied cursing his existence with poverty, he had awoken to a bumpy cart ride, bound in hands, wearing ragged clothing and what seems to be a one-way trip to something dreadful.

He had tried to reminisce what had happened. There were employers who, he had persuaded, would find his skills useful during camp (as his name had hinted at what that particular task was). "Kindle-Starter" because of his meager Flame skill that provided just enough power to create fire from dry kindle.

The first few days of his employment had gone by, quiet and peaceful. The caravan he was in, met no bandits on the road, or bears or wolves for that matter.

It was one night when there was a large ambush that had caught each and everyone of them by surprise. Kindle-Starter had his fair share of attacks during employment, but when he recognized Imperial uniforms among the ambushers, he knew this was no ordinary raid.

He was caught easily, his hands held and bound behind him as he struggled to get loose. His persistence probably annoyed his Imperial captors, because the last thing he knew was a large fist hitting him at the side of his snout, where he promptly blacked out and lost all consciousness.

And there he was, his spirit of persistence lost at the inevitability that he was in right now.

He mulled at the short life that he had lived, and not a satisfying life it was. Even as someone who introduced himself as Ralof kept nattering about where they were right now, who he was, and who the gagged prisoner beside him was. The horse thief beside him, which hailed from Rorikstead had a panicked look in his eyes.

The Argonian kept his silence, as all Argonians were naturally quiet and kept to their own counsel. It didn't matter to know what the name of the village they were being brought to. He could feel a lot of imminent deaths from that village.

Kindle-Starter turned towards the other prisoners in the carts that followed their own. Heads would probably roll later. Literally.

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><p>He listened to the officer that was listing out names from a list, ticking a checkmark whenever the identified moved to the front near the "Block".<p>

He was a bit surprised though, when the horse thief had made a mad dash towards the gate. He made a disgusted face when the archers shot the man in the back, downing him in an instant. The Argonian disliked this ugly side of the Nords.

He turned his attention towards the front however, when he heard the word "lizard" and noticed that both the officer and his commander were looking at him.

"My apologies." He hissed softly, his serpentine voice not belying the fear of death that was making his insides squirm. "Did you inquire something of me?"

The officer's face hardened a bit, the Argonian noticed. But this was more of someone who was fighting his emotions. Kindle-Starter could relate.

"What…is your name?" The officer asked.

"My name…" He struggled a bit, before steeling his resolve. He was to die anyway. Best that at least someone would know his egg-name. "I am called Yrrab Naga in my homeland. Here in your country, I am more known by my professional name as "Kindle-Starter" or "Arrow-Gatherer".

The officer raised his eyebrows a bit.

"Arrow-Gatherer? I have heard about you. You were that young Argonian that helped supply arrows for the camp near Ivarstead."

The lizard-man shrugged but inside he felt a sense of accomplishment. "I do my duties with honesty and for my employer's satisfaction."

He felt the cold glare from Ralof, but chose to wisely ignore it. He had not mentioned his former services to the Imperials with his current employers.

"Captain." The officer turned towards the woman beside him. "What should we do? He is not on the list."

Yrrab felt his spirits rise at the possibility of not having to have a close encounter with the chopping block.

"Forget the list. He goes to the block."

Talk about a heartwrench.

"By your orders, Captain." He responded softly. "I'm sorry Arrow-Gatherer, we will make sure your remains are returned to Black Marsh."

The Argonian merely shook his head, as he softly trudged towards Ralof's side.

Fortunately, the Stormcloak soldier didn't bother to talk to him anymore. Not that Yrrab could handle talking anymore. The break in his voice might hint of the inner turmoil he felt inside.

Sovngarde has no place for kindle starters or arrow gatherers. Yrrab, in his green age, often wondered what really happens to Argonians when they pass away. Would he be reunited with the Hist instead?

This would be the best time to find out. Even if he did not want to do so personally.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: If you guys notice, I'm writing off from memory. So inaccuracies in the game script are bound to happen. Not that accuracy is needed, we're trying to do a fanfic here lol.

Disclaimer: Same disclaimer as the previous chapter.

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><p>"I said, next prisoner!"<p>

Yrrab didn't want to move. He silently cursed the soldier that went before him. The fool had interrupted the priestess' departing ritual. It would have bought him time to reminisce before dying.

But he was an Argonian man now. Even in death, he must not falter. Even if his life was forfeit, his pride will remain intact though he will breathe no more.

Yrrab momentarily stopped in front of the officer who acknowledged him, turning towards him.

"I appreciate this kindness, Imperial. I do not hold any grudges against you." He whispered softly. The officer held his breath and closed his eyes, lowering his head a bit. He didn't reply.

Slowly, he made his way to the block, eyeing the headless corpse of the person that went before him. He moved it away with his bound hands, before he tried his best to comfortably lay his head on the now blood-warmed chopping stone.

"May the Hist guide me…" He whispered, focusing his gaze at the overcast sky, which seemed to reflect his troubled soul.

Another roar came, this time, more pronounced and louder. Yrrab admitted that he never heard of this roar all his time in Skyrim. There were two initial roars earlier during the interrogation of who he now identified was Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of Windhelm, but they had all dutifully ignored it.

"WHAT IN OBLIVION IS THAT?" General Tullius exclaimed, everyone's attention now focused on what had made the stoic commander raise his voice.

A dragon! A DRAGON! The Argonian almost wept. He was thoroughly dismayed at his fortune. The kind officer had made a promise of having his remains returned to Black Marsh, but it seemed like it would be incinerated with the threat of the dragon's legendary flames.

The mighty dragon landed on the tower behind the executioner who, Yrrab had just noticed, had the war axe above his head in a chopping position. The arrival of the great beast made the land tremble, and the executioner, losing his balance, fell down and found his axe through his own neck.

The executioner's demise went unnoticed however, as the dragon roared. It was probably a dragon spell because the skies suddenly thickened with spell-dense clouds that formed a heavenly maelstrom. Lo and thick balls of fire began to rain from the eye of the maelstrom, each ball of flame hot enough to reduce stone and rock to ashes.

The Argonian stared in awe at the majestic beast. The dragon turned its gaze at him, beady eyes somewhat discerning.

He had little time to admire the deadly wonder that gazed upon him, as the dragon immediately opened its great maw and roared, a visible force emanating from its mouth coursing through the air and towards him. Yrrab had little time to be surprised before the shockwave hit him dead on, his heart almost stopping at the power of the mythic beast's howling.

His vision was momentarily impaired, colors mismatched and his body refused to move. The Argonian had thought that he clearly died.

It was the shouting from someone nearby who had brought him back to his senses. Ralof, his ill thoughts of the lizard probably forgotten at the appearance of this catastrophe, screamed for him to run towards the tower where they barricaded themselves in.

"I…I-I'm coming…" Yrrab stood up, swaying slightly. He was still dazed, and he feared that his hearing might be damaged in some form. He shook his head to collect his bearings and made a mad dash towards the tower where Ralof was waiting for him.

Yrrab silently thanked whatever Divine had intervened. Or maybe a Daedric Prince? Sheogorath probably sent the beast as some form of insane assistance. His life, over this village's?

He grunted, laughing. As if the Prince of Madness could be bothered with a no-name like him.

While Ralof and his Jarl were discussing what had happened, he decided to trudge the stairs that encircled the height of the tower. A bit of exploring wouldn't hurt, would it?

He was thoroughly convinced that Sheogorath probably had a hand with this catastrophe however, when the dragon's head broke through the walls of the tower, and spat fire towards an unlucky fellow that found themselves in front of the dragon's sight. He thought himself lucky when he got cuffed by a flying chunk of rock that knocked him into the sand pile away from the dragon.

Had he just heard the dragon shout "Yol"? It sure sounded like it.

The dragon left, seemingly satisfied with the burnt corpse. Yrrab cautiously peeked through the large hole which the beast's head had made. Gingerly, he eased out and tried looking for a safe way to get out of the village. For whatever reason this village had offended the beast, he was now sure that the dragon was determined to level this village to the ground, along with its inhabitants.

A somewhat damaged inn came to view below him.

"Right." He muttered to himself. "Eyes to the front, tail out for balance and…JUMP!"

He fell through the hole in the roof, on the second floor. Upon landing, he rolled aimlessly before hitting his back onto a shelf with empty wine bottles. The whole building grunted under his weight and he knew it was not safe to be there for one second more.

Yrrab didn't bother going through the burning stairs and eased through another hole in the floor, where he landed near the entrance of the inn, and safely made his way out.

A familiar looking Imperial was on the rubble-strewn street, coaxing a child to come towards him. His eyes met with the Argonian, and there was pronounced relief in both his expression and speech.

"Prisoner! You made it out alive!" He tittered, slapping Yrrab's muscled shoulder heartily.

After ensuring that the child was safe in the hands of another officer (and learning his warden's name was 'Hadvar'), they made their way through the burning streets, sneaking beside the walls whenever the dragon came too close.

"Hadvar…"

They both made it out to a clearing, where from a distance they could see the dragon trying to melt the tower he was just in a while ago.

"…about my bindings…"

**"RALOF YOU TRAITOR! OUT OF OUR WAY!"**

Yrrab groaned, and slinked into the wall, hiding in the shadow. He did not need drama right now. Best if Ralof didn't find him in the company of the Imperials. Again.

"We're escaping Hadvar! And there's nothing you can do about it!"

There was a pregnant pause before – "Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!"

From his position, Yrrab saw Ralof and the Jarl go through unimpeded. He waited for them to disappear from their sight before he emerged to join Hadvar's side.

"Where were you?" Hadvar asked, still a bit incensed. "I had almost thought the dragon had eaten you while I had my back turned!"

Yrrab was about to retort but found himself shushed, as he was ushered inside the Keep. He just rolled his eyes, muttering something about Nords being pushy.


End file.
